


Beyond Memories - Além das Memórias

by AmyDCastro



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:47:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26219593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmyDCastro/pseuds/AmyDCastro
Summary: Seven years were lost in three months. And on that fateful date, year after year, Miranda finds a way to drown herself but memories and endlessly seeks answers about how both, after so many promises, ended up following distant directions. Could it have been a lack of love?❤️ Fanfic MirAndy❗ SINGLE CHAPTER.🌹 Drama, but with a happy ending!Hey, I don't speak English! This story was originally written in Portuguese, and has been automatically translated by any online translator you can imagine. There may be errors in the translations, I'm sorry for that!
Relationships: Miranda Priestly & Andrea Sachs, Miranda Priestly/Andrea Sachs
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	Beyond Memories - Além das Memórias

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I don't speak English! This story was originally written in Portuguese, and has been automatically translated by any online translator you can imagine. There may be errors in the translations, I'm sorry for that!
> 
> Thank you for being here! This is my first work on this platform, but there are other stories of me from this same fandom (in Portuguese) on wattpad, also with user @AmyDCastro
> 
> I hope you like this and that you can enjoy it. A kiss!

I open my eyes, more the need than the will. It seems like yesterday, but in the end, it's been three years. I roll over in bed, look at the alarm clock and observe the date below the hour. The white numbers seem to mock, a failed attempt to remember something. Mocking, as if I could forget.  
The empty bed, the lack of it, of everything that surrounds it.  
Its smell, its details scattered around the house. From her towel hanging in the shower, from her mascara always against the marble in the sink, from her fluorescent pink slippers next to the sideboard. The House looks empty, but no more than my chest. I look around, the marks of the paintings removed from the wall staring back at me, silently asking if they will see a new color, if they will come alive again.  
Fools, I ask myself the same question every damn day.  
I can't understand what happened between us. Was it the lack of love? No, I refuse to think that. Love is something we never lacked. Perhaps, it was understanding. Or who knows, a little more courage, willpower.  
Everything, really everything inside that room reminds me of her. I get up from the bed, walk over to the closet and look at the empty part on the left, the silent calm of the shelves and hangers that ask the same question every time I walk in. Will we smell her again?  
I shake my head in denial. not really denying something, but trying to convince me not to think about something like that.  
I reach out in the closet, drag one of the bags down and place it on the counter. Three changes of simple clothes, a robe and sweater, and unfortunately, when I open the part of the comfortable shoes, there are her slippers, staring back at me. I grab them in a snitch, throw them in my suitcase and quickly fetch the rest of my stuff. Toothbrush, creams, the cell phone charger, hastily closing it and dragging it down the hall.  
Silence embraces me, hoping to go down the stairs and find her down there, clumsily stirring in a frying pan with eggs while everything is in chaos. Her organized mess, as she used to say. She would have a pen in her hair, pinning the strands yet to be combed. I would be wearing my robe from the night before, barefoot, the sun illuminating your body in the open windows and I would come over, hug your back, slide my arms around your waist and take a deep breath, diving into the mixture of our smells together, yours. soap, and all the latent love that even over the years has never ceased to exist.  
It was never a lack of love.  
The Kitchen is empty, the newspaper is not on the counter and even if I search with all my might, it will not be there. I go to the coffee maker and put one of the capsules to prepare the first dose of caffeine for the day.  
In that same kitchen that we so often made plans and promises to, we had our worst arguments. My fingers wander on the cold counter, the marble reminding me of the times she forced me to sit there and even with an indignant snort, I ended up doing it without complaining. She would open my robe, say she loved me, that my scent was the best soothing in the universe and that I made her feel like the most important being on earth. Your coffee-tasting mouth would be my breakfast, your sweet skin would be the most delicate dessert ever created after our lunch and I would devour it right after locking our bedroom door at the end of the day. The girls would walk in the door of the same kitchen the next morning, look at each other and roll their eyes, their cheeks flushed as they knew among themselves that the adults in that house had not slept at all last night. But even then, they would come closer, they would kiss both of our cheeks and each would sit around waiting for coffee, laughing and making jokes to make me blush.  
It was beautiful and beautiful seven years, seven incredible years of happiness that I wished with all my hopes that would be eternal. And on the same day that the seven years were over, doubts began to arise, suspicions were greater than promises and little by little everything started to fall apart. It was three months, three months after our anniversary that everything really fell apart.  
Accusations, loud words that had never changed, broken promises and going up the stairs without ending up in bed. That night, he ended up packing her, with her clothes thrown out and without any kind of organization while I couldn't do anything else, nothing but sitting on the edge of the bed watching her in a silent request that only once more, that only for that time she said she would forgive me. I would promise to change, we would promise to find better ways to reconcile our lives and then we would stop in bed for another time to make sure she was the greatest love of my life.  
Did not happen.  
There were no strength to argue or to continue a fight, there were no excuses that could heal the words thrown.  
She was gone, but I was still sure that she was my love and that I would love her forever.  
Andrea blossomed, like a lily lost to the field, in all its strength and splendor and I was only able to observe her from afar, ignore reporters with questions about her, ignore anything with her name, even if in the evening I gathered my cell phone through the covers and research everything about her again.  
I saw her reach the top, saw her promoted, reached where she dreamed so much and I didn't even have the opportunity to congratulate her for all her efforts. I saw her distant, but with a heart full of faith.  
Ignoring the memories for just a moment, I take the not-so-hot coffee and return upstairs, changing my clothes for something she has adapted to use. The jeans hug my legs, the jacket warms me and the high boots remind me of her whenever I put them on. So similar to your favorite brown Channel pair.  
I toss the suitcase into the trunk of the BMW, hold the keys firmly against the handle and wonder for the millionth time if this isn't crazy. I get into the car, my heart pounding. The pendant in the rearview mirror is still the one she hung, with the blue felt heart, with our initials written in permanent pen and if it depends only on me, it will remain there forever. I open the glove compartment, the key to the house we chose together is there. And that little metal object is all I need to cool my head, or maybe, fill my chest with a little more hope.  
I start the car, ignore the radio and finally hit the road, the sunglasses blocking the sunrise and the transparent of my tears that seem to become a waterfall.  
After an hour on the road, I end up at a gas station. I put my best scarf around my hair, put on my gloves to keep the cold away, and go downstairs in search of coffee. I return with a new mug for the car, with a box of cigars, a packet of cookies and that's all I need for today. Well, almost everything. I look at my cell phone for a moment, there are no missed calls or new messages and I miraculously thank you for the momentary loneliness. I return to the road, the sun gaining intense life in the distance and taking the cold away. It won't be long, another hour and a half and I finally stop at the back of the house, the sound of tires against the stones hugging me like a prayer.  
It seems that nothing has changed. Well, almost nothing. The trees are taller, the sun is already hiding among the clouds and the cold returns sweeping.  
I get out of the car, my cheeks burn with a low temperature and with the car and house keys in hand, I take my bag out of the luggage rack and head for the door. The dark wood seems to be staring back at me, fingers trembling in a mixture of cold with the anguish of stepping here without it.  
Three years, long three years without having your eyes on mine.  
I turn the golden key in the lock, open the door, the smell of wood and varnish invading me like the first time.  
-Let's be so happy here ...  
Your voice, the phrase said the first time we did this same act seems to cloud my thoughts. Looks like it was yesterday. I miss his arms around me after the words, his lips kissing the back of my neck then.  
I drag the suitcase inside, close the door and watch the place. Nothing changed. The place is clean, the curtains are open and little natural light invades the space. I observe the caramel sofa, her choice of furniture, our special place that at no time after the end it was decided what would be made of it. It has become my refuge, my secret place, the one that only I could step on, the one where I could nestle in any of its corners, lose myself in the memories of both of us and allow myself to cry as much as necessary to move on afterwards of this.  
I take off my coat, go to the pantry and when I turn on the light, I don't need many steps to find our small collection of wines and our pair of glasses.  
I return with the bottle in one hand, the pair in the other and I curl up on the couch ignoring the boots. I easily remove the cork stopper when I find the opener in the coffee table drawer. I watch the empty glasses, my eyes not restraining and aiming for the mezzanine, the dizzying hope of finding her body against the rail, her hair wet, her robe hugging her before she came down and I could take her in my arms, sit on my legs, fill our bowls and make your body glow with the fire coming from the fireplace. My eyes wander to the fireplace. There is no fire, there is no company for wine. There is only loneliness, pain, longing and the lack it makes me.  
I fill both glasses, let the second face me in retaliation for never going after her after her departure. Cristal judges me, asks me how I was brave enough to let my girls take the rest of her things with her wherever she went. If the cup had eyes, it would close them, if it had lips it would also end up snorting and reminding me how stupid I was.  
I take the first glass in a single sip, then fill it and go back to sipping decently.  
When I was told all my life that loving was something beautiful, happy and that made us complete, the only part I understood throughout my days was maternal love. There was that certainty, none of my divorces hurt enough. It wasn't love with them, it was just the habit.  
Then Andrea arrived. She appeared in that whirlwind, it became essential and when I needed someone most, she left me. It was just absence, the lack of having someone who at least somehow understood me. Then she resurfaced like a phoenix through the ashes, with her tape recorder in one hand, her notepad in the other and those shining eyes that seemed to see all the buzz inside my head. I never wanted to speak in public so much, I never wanted the press to know details about Runway, I never wanted anything like I wanted it, and everything to have the simple excuse of seeing it.  
And it was in one of these, one of those interviews with the audience that she stayed until the end, who nervously stuffed her hands inside her coat pockets and with unsteady steps walked over to me, sighed uncertainly and asked me if I would like a coffee .  
A coffee turned into two, an afternoon turned into three, a kiss months later turned into an entire dawn and after that, there was nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing that I wanted more than to see her smile, kiss her mouth and make her happy.  
And it was exactly for two of these three reasons that I ended up letting her go without a fight once again.  
In those final three months, Andrea was no longer smiling. His eyes, day after day, started to lose their shine and nothing that I did was able to bring him back. I remember as if it had been our last night together, the last time my hungry mouth found her skin, that without words I tried to beg her to give me a route on our way. I remember its taste, the way its eyes looked at me but they didn't seem to see me. I remember her shaking body, her moans being trapped in her throat and when she lost herself, softening against the sheets, she cried. I tried to hug her, I tried to beg with words for her to tell me what was wrong but all she did was get up, lock herself in the bathroom and cry copiously for hours.  
So, I realize that when they told me about love, nobody told me that he was also capable of opening that black hole in the middle of the chest, that the pain throbbed through the muscles and even though we struggled with all our strength , we would never be able to forget.  
When I realize, half the bottle has already been drunk and the wind is shaking the trees outside.  
Today we would complete Ten years, ten years that she made me the happiest, most loved woman, made me feel alive.  
I fill my glass one more, two more, three more times and when it is near the end, the alcoholic waves start to turn in my stomach. I curl up on the couch, pull my coat tighter against my chest and let my eyes close, just a moment, just an instant with the incessant desire that sleep will make me forget about it ... even if it is only for a few hours.  
Sounds outside wake me, stone rolling against stone. I jump off the couch, my eyes trying to adapt to the low light. I have no idea what time it is, but the gloom covers the house and I get up, groping at the end of the sofa in search of the lamp. As soon as I touch the switch to turn on some light, all the lights in the room come on and my eyes stop on none other than her.  
Andrea.  
Andrea over there.  
Andrea in our house, in our favorite spot, with her dark eyes and red cheeks.  
-Miranda ... -She says, softly, her voice as shaky as the intense and uneven beat that takes me. My arm falls on the back of the sofa, I can't do anything but keep my eyes on it.  
-What are you doing here?  
Your voice is a breath. Her eyes dive into mine, she holds the bag tightly to her chest and walks a few steps forward.  
-I had no idea you would be here, I swear, I ...  
-It seems that I was not the only one thinking about coming here. -I mean barely controlling my voice, fluttering and wavering inside my chest.  
-I'm leaving, I ...  
-No. - I say quickly. My heart is pounding, I feel alcohol in my system and ignore it. -There's a bowl for you. - I say without thinking.  
Andrea looks around, observes my suitcase beside the sofa and cautiously walks to the center of the room, her steps passing by the table, her body in front of the fireplace, facing the said glass against the table.  
-There's two. -She says.  
-One is yours.  
-How do you know I would come here, and ...  
-I did not know. -I mean in a swallow.  
-So...  
-Wow, I sigh. -Do you forget things so quickly? -I finish mumbling. -I live on hope, Andrea.  
Andrea sighs too, she drops her purse against the chair and ends up leaning over, grabbing the glass with the wine that has been standing for hours and still takes it to her lips, taking it in a single sip while I can't take my eyes off hers.  
-I didn't know you would come, I ...  
-I come every year. -She says.  
My face must look like a mess, and that explains the smell of it that always seems to be at the same intensity in every room.  
I sit down, look at my empty glass and wish for a little more alcohol. But I don't move, I don't risk taking anything else. Andrea sits on the couch at the end of it, her empty cup firmly between her thin fingers.  
-I just wanted to ... remember. -She says, eyes watching the empty bowl and I end up staring at it without being able to look away.  
-Me too. -I finish whispering.  
-I don't want to argue, Miranda. I didn't know that, well ... I should go, we ...  
-Come on. -I tell her, I try to keep my expression neutral but I'm sure it's impossible. -I think we should talk. After all, my gaps remained. -And many memories, I end up thinking. -For example, we never decided what to do with this place.  
-He's yours, you paid for it. But Cassidy said you didn't want it, so I've been coming since.  
-Caroline told me that you didn't want him anymore. And he is not mine, he is ours. Have you been hitting that little head and forgot that we bought it together?  
-Miranda ...  
-Come on, Andrea! - I say quickly, maybe my voice more exalted than necessary. -We never talked about anything, we never talked about it! What happened, Andrea, where did we end up deviating from our promises, where did we get lost?  
Andrea's eyes are cracked, she is staring at me and I realize the words being played. So many doubts, so many questions.  
-I can't understand what happened between us. -She says. -I've always been told that everything has a beginning and an end, but I didn't think it would happen between us. You walked away.  
\- Did I walk away?  
My voice seems to startle her, I end up taking a deep breath, my hands shaking intensely and then I take a deep breath.  
\- Did I walk away? -repeat, restrained voice and my eyes watching her reactions.  
-You didn't have dinner with me anymore, I was being alone, we barely saw each other. And then ... -Andrea sighs, her hands moving restlessly too and she drops the cup next to mine. -So I found Sophie's messages on her cell phone, the odd times on her calendar and ...  
-Wait! - I say in a gasp. -What does Sophie have to do with it?  
-Are you really asking me that, Miranda?  
Andrea's eyes flutter, an unwelcome glow covering them, the reddish embracing them and a single lonely tear flows from them.  
-Of course I am, it doesn't make sense. Was it you who walked away, did you want to let me kiss you when we had sex the last few times, and am I the one to blame?  
-Tell me then what you did with this woman, Miranda. Tell me the reason for the flowers, tell me the reason for the jewels, the dinners ...  
-Saint Christ! - I jump up, almost hitting the coffee table. I turn to her, her face lifting to keep watching me. -Did you think I was cheating on you?  
Andrea lowers her eyes, raises a hand to her face and wipes away the tears that flow without mercy.  
-For the love of God, don't tell me that you walked away from me because of Sophie, don't tell me that our relationship went to waste for those assumptions!  
And like a blow, her words in our last fight throb in my head. "You seem to have found some better work after Irv left, don't you? Your time at the magazine is so crucial, it makes no difference that I expect you when someone else would like to be here."  
-Andrea! -Shout. The words come out of me and Andrea jumps on the couch, eyes popped and I lose control of myself. -Do you want to know who Sophie is? Sophie would replace me, Andrea. I was preparing to replace myself, to retire, to have my whole life for you! I wanted to leave my job to travel the world with you, to be with you, to see you grow with your career, to be with you in my arms in your successes, and no longer just in mine! Sophie was never an affair and no one ever was! I would never do that to you!  
-But you didn't say anything! -She exalts as much as I do, hands clenched in a fist against her lap. -You let me go, you always let me go, I never looked good enough for you, Miranda! You made all my doubts great certainties when it just didn't matter to you when I decided to leave.  
-Are you listening to your own words, Andrea? Are you listening to what you are saying? You left on your own, I couldn't make you stay with me for an obligation, we promise it would always be for love, not for any other reason!  
-You let me go! -She insists, gets up and in front of me, the table between us.  
-Of course I left!  
I feel my nails dig into my palms. Hot sweat drips from them, I don't care. My vision blurs with tears, I blink and let them flow.  
-I let you go, I let you go for wishing you were happy, for wishing you to do everything you ever wanted even if I wasn't with you!  
Andrea tembla, her legs stagger and she ends up sitting on the couch again, hands on her face rubbing her face in some kind of despair.  
-I looked back so many times, I wondered so many times where did we go wrong and now I can't believe the answer is that. I can't accept that you left because you thought I would betray you, because I didn't believe all the times I kissed you and said I loved you.  
-I never said I didn't believe it, Miranda.  
Andrea looks up at me again, I end up rubbing my hands against my face to wipe away the tears and then I watch her eyes red and fixed on mine.  
-It was no longer a matter of love. It was a matter of trust, of loyalty. You were distant, as drowned in work as when you separated from Stephen years ago. -My stomach turns over with the name. -And then you started to arrive late, I could hardly wait for you awake. The girls started college, I thought we were going to line up our promises but you just drowned even more in work. I lost count of how many times I waited for you, how many times your dinner got cold and you didn't arrive.  
-I asked you for a little patience! -I say accusing her, finger pointed at her like never before.  
-And I was patient! -She rebounds. -But there this woman appeared, and it seemed that everything was spinning with her, and not with me anymore, you could have told me, and ...  
-I tried to tell you! - I'll cut it again. -I tried to tell you, but I knew that you would say that I would not live without work, when in fact I was doing all that so as not to lose you. And look how we ended up, do you see? I lost you!  
-Miranda ...  
The words are lost in my throat, images mixing in my head like a whirlwind, the mixture of flashes of our current conversation with all past promises, with all whispers, with all pleas, all looks. I can't think of anything else, I can't think of anything other than that it was really the unspoken words that brought us to these three years. I grab the car keys from the sideboard, drag myself across the room and hold my suitcase tightly. I head for the door, I need to get out of this place, I need to go and forget the damn time I decided to come here.  
-Miranda, please don't go.  
I turn around at his voice, my steps stopping in the middle of the hall.  
-What do you expect, Andrea? That I stay? May I say that everything is fine, that I am fine with your departure, that I am fine with all the pain that squeezes my chest since you knocked on our door? For God's sake, I have nothing else to do here.  
I can't look at his face anymore, that black hole in my chest seems to close and a knife rips it open again, three times bigger. I drop the suitcase to open the door and it is there that his quick steps knock towards me and his steady hand holds the door.  
-Please listen to me.  
I close my eyes, I can't look at her, I can't.  
-Do you think it didn't hurt me, Miranda? Do you think I didn't suffer day after day with the idea of you being in other arms while all I wanted was to be yours forever?  
\- I didn't cheat on you. -I mean between teeth.  
-I did not know that. What would you think if you were in my place? Remember how you reacted when I danced with Roy on your birthday? You wanted to fire him, you were enraged. And I just had eyes for you. Now think about how I reacted when my wife left, when another woman started filling her diary, when flowers were sent to her every week just like I received in the beginning, how would you react when you beg to have your wife in bed at a decent time , when he wanted to wrap her body in his arms and caress her hair until she fell asleep and she in the end, she never arrived.  
-Andrea, I didn't cheat on you.  
-I know now, Miranda.  
-But still you left. I open my eyes, my voice a whisper, his tearful red face staring at mine. -You could have asked, could have faced and questioned me.  
-And do you think I would live with the certainty that you didn't love me anymore?  
-I always loved you, Andrea. I told you that, I told you that I would always love you.  
-I wouldn't live if it was the other way around, Miranda. The pain of uncertainty is bearable. The certainty of not having your love anymore, I would die. You understand?  
-How do you think I lived these three years, Andrea? How do you think I spent day after day after you left me? They say it is difficult to forget the pain, but I say it is impossible.  
-When I think of everything we live, time seems to stop. I look back on all our vows, everything we had, and I also didn't know what made us get here, like this, with these three years between us.  
-And what was the conclusion you reached?  
Andrea closes her eyes, squeezes them tightly, then opens them and then sighs.  
-I see that I would never know how to love another person, even if I tried with all my strength. I see that I could have faced you, that you would tell me what you said today about my doubts and instead of leaving, we would have made love like so many other times and I would say as many times as necessary that I would love and love you for the rest of my life.  
I look into his eyes, the air seems to escape from my lungs.  
-So, different from the three years ago, different from any doubts and only with certainty, I say that I cannot let you go, Miranda. You cannot leave me here, you cannot leave. I know, I did it, I caused it all. But I love you, and there is nothing in this world that I want more than to do anything to be able to love you with all the letters again.  
And before I catch my breath, Andrea's hands are warm on my face, her thumbs rubbing my wet cheeks and the moment my suitcase escapes my fingers and hits the floor with a strong thud, Andrea is in me, yours mouth on mine, his breath touching my face, his palms pushing me and his body pressing against mine against the door.  
She walks away when she seems to be aware of the act, tears are streaming from her eyes and I know mine are no different.  
-Stay with me, for God's sake, Miranda ... don't go, don't do the stupid thing I did. I see it in your eyes, now I see it, now I know. For me, it never ended.  
And now I'm the one who kisses her, my keys falling to the floor when I pull her body to mine, when I tap my mouth with hers, when I push my tongue as deep as possible into her lips, when I stick my hands inside her open jacket and tightening it, I beg with a touch that nothing really between us is over.  
That deep beating in my heart, starts again as if it had never stopped. Andrea holds me in her hands, kisses me back and I am taken by all the nostalgia for three years without having it in my hands.  
We crawl around the house, she tries to guide me up the stairs and I end up letting her go when I realize that we won't be able to do this without parting our lips. I quickly push open the door of what used to be our room, I turn to take it in my hands but it is faster, moving my fingers over my shoulders, taking off my coat, pulling off my sweater, pulling my shirt over my head. She walks away, ignores my clothes when she hurriedly starts taking off her. I freeze for a moment, I turn and pull the covers off the bed and seconds later her bare breasts are on my back, her now cold hands stopping at my waist, unbuttoning my pants, dragging my jeans down my thighs and quickly turn over in her hands , taking her face in my palms as she pushes me against the bed.  
Andrea stands up, takes off the rest of her pants, her skin completely bare before my eyes. She looks at me, advances on my legs, slips the zips of my boots and throws them and some corner, then gluing her body to mine exactly naked like yours.  
-Heavens, you're freezing. -I say without thinking, dragging myself with my elbows to reach the pillows.  
-It doesn't matter, nothing matters. Only you matter.  
Andrea kisses my mouth, drags her face down my throat, kisses the skin there, rubs against my breasts but doesn't stop there, crawling to that point that pulsates in a mixture of raw anxiety and cruel longing.  
Her hands lift my legs, she wraps her arms around my thighs and I can barely think when she just snaps me up, lips parted and a hot tongue touches me as if they never stopped doing it.  
-Andrea ... slowly, slowly ... -I plead softly, I hardly know how to react.  
"I can't," she says, her eyes lifting to mine, her mouth opening and her tongue dragging from my entrance to the pulsating point of pleasure. -I can't, please ...  
Then her eyes close, she squeezes them, her nails dig into my thighs and I know it won't be long, I know it will be quick, I know my head is a mess and all I know how to think is that she is here , which is everything beyond memories.  
Andrea satisfies me eagerly, sucks me in, my hands grab her hair, her shoulders, I squirm in her hands. It feels like the end of the world. I can't help looking at her, seeing her hands on my legs and that's when she nibbles on that pulsating button, that her eyes open and stare at me, that's where I realize that all that was also a big and immense mistake of mine and all we did was lose three years of our lives.  
I explode, explode in seconds in her mouth, my throat burning with the scream, with the crying contained and it is there that she crawls for me, that her body falls against mine between my legs, that clumsily she pulls the covers, nestles in my chest and then sobs, hands gripping me tightly.  
I sigh, my crying stuck in my throat, the mixture of feeling your bare skin, of having your body in my hands again. Andrea trembles, the madness of the speed that everything happened clouding my thoughts. I wrap his body tightly in my arms, take a deep breath, barely able to believe it is real. She cries hard, her tears wetting my skin still oscillating, my fingers dipping in her hair and I end up turning our bodies on the bed, laying her down beside me. I pull away to straighten the covers, the winter chill taking over my sweaty skin and she holds me.  
-Do not go, please.  
-Sh ... -I whisper.  
I pull the covers off, stare at her wet face for just a moment and end up cradling her in my arms again, her crying gaining intensity.  
-Pardon me, Miranda, forgive me, I should have come back, I should have talked, I ...  
-Sh, -I say again. - There's no turning back, Andrea. There is nothing more we can do about it.  
-I know, but ... it will never be the same, never ...  
-Don't be silly, Andrea.  
-What do you mean by that?  
-I mean that just as it was for you, for me it never ended. It won't be easy, there is so much that we need to talk, so much that we need to say ...  
-I know, I'm sorry.  
-Okay, we know it wasn't your fault. It was our fault. We should have talked more. I should have talked about retiring, you should have talked about your suspicions and maybe today we were turning ten. But it was not so, and we cannot change that.  
Andrea walks away gently, her red face staring at me. She brings her fingers up to my throat, her nails trailing softly there and making me shiver. Her fingers go to my mouth, she outlines my lips and closes her eyes, a long breath coming out of her.  
-Miranda, I love you so much, I love you so much ...  
-I love you too. -I mean, the words blowing out, the wounds on my chest getting a new dressing. -I never stopped loving you, Andrea, not for a second.  
We look into each other's eyes, I wrap my legs around hers, her icy fingers run down my back and she pulls me close, our mouths are soft, calm, loving and I can't understand how I survived those damn three years without your contact. She seems to feel the same, rolls over my body, her sweet, warm tongue rubbing mine, but then she pops away.  
-A fresh start? -Question.  
-A fresh start. Beyond the Memories.  
\- Beyond memories?  
-Much beyond them.  
And there I feel as if the time between our seven and ten years old was just a detour along the way. His eyes are on mine, bright, warm caramel and full of shine, bright as I missed him so much. Her lips part, she sucks the bottom between her teeth and then smiles.  
And any and all doubts can be left for later.  
And I was definitely right, after all, it was never lack of love.


End file.
